Corrupted: An Epic Dragons and Immortals Romantic Fantasy (Fallen Emrys Chronicles Book 1) by E.E. Everly (motivational books for men txt) 📕

my light,” I said. “I’ve damaged my heart-center.” Kenrik wouldn’t understand. “There’s a stain. It’s marred. I was told I’d become corrupted if I entered the mortal realms. I was told this would happen.”

“That you’d kill people?” he asked.

“Not that exactly.”

You couldn’t have foreseen this, Seren said. Your intentions were noble.

“How is the mortal realm at fault for your corruption? And you’re not corrupted, Niawen. You’re pure and innocent.”

“I’m not innocent,” I said. “You can’t see what’s happened to my light.”

“Don’t believe some rubbish someone told you as a fairytale to frighten you away.”

“It’s not rubbish. There’s darkness here. There’s evil in men’s hearts.”

“Am I evil?” he asked.

“No,” I mumbled.

“Then what is it? Are we mortals too finite for you? You think because you’re an emrys, with the Creator’s grace bestowed upon you, that you have farther to fall? That you have to be a great martyr? This one act doesn’t define you.”

I gasped. “How could you know what I think?”

“We all fall the same distance. Can’t you see? You have the same flesh and blood I do.” He lifted my arm and traced the vein in my wrist with a confident finger. “You bleed as I do. You breathe as I do. You sin just as I do. The Creator made me just as he made you.”

He’s right, Seren said.

I took a deep breath, acknowledging Seren’s words. She trusted Kenrik—a big step for her. “That’s it. I’ve sinned. How do I earn forgiveness?”

“Is this a new concept for you?”

“Yes.”

Kenrik snickered, and I hated him for just a heartbeat. “Oh, Niawen. In some ways you are very naïve. What’s the world you’re from like? Emrys don’t make mistakes?”

“This is not funny. We make mistakes. Just not on a scale this grand.”

The seriousness in Kenrik grew, matching his solemn, deep-set eyes. “No. It’s not funny, is it? Forgiveness is a demanding journey, but not an impossible one.”

“So I’m not doomed?”

“Doomed? No. You’re not. You act just as human as the rest of us.”

“Human?” This was a human thing.

“Yep, human.” He grinned. “Does that bother you?”

I was relieved that even a race such as the humans could partake in Deian’s grace. Since I was so stubborn, I’d have to learn to humble myself. Maybe living with the flawed humans, and even being flawed, wouldn’t be so bad. Kenrik thrived. “I can live with it.”

He backed up a step, finally willing to free me. “All right, then. Would you like to see Kelyn? I’m sure he’ll be waking soon. He should set your mind at ease.”

“Yes. Thank you, Kenrik.” My stomach flipped. I wasn’t sure how to be at ease, but having Kenrik know this much about me gave me an ally in my grief.

An ally that I wasn’t about to give up.

TWENTY-SIX

“Kelyn.” I rushed into his room. He was sitting in an armchair, perfectly fine. His cheeks had color. I expected him to be pale. To be near death.

I stumbled to his side and threw my arms around his neck, forgetting my embarrassment as tears fell.

His arms circled me, and he rubbed my back. “I feel remarkably well. I’ve been pondering if this was how Mother felt after you healed her.”

I pulled away and sniffled, fully aware I was a mess.

“My sweet Niawen. I am well.” He laughed. Kelyn was so collected. Even his hair was as unruffled as his demeanor. “When we met, I must have looked as disheveled as you do now.” He smoothed my hair back and held my face in his hands for longer than I was comfortable with.

“You were seconds from death, Kelyn. Seconds. I was so afraid.”

The echo of he’s mortal, he’s mortal rang through my head.

“I don’t plan on dying anytime soon.”

He will die, eventually, my brain said.

I stood and backed away, morosely noticing the heat leave my cheeks as his hands broke contact. “I need air. Forgive me.”

I raced from the room.

TWENTY-SEVEN

Freezing rain pounded the glass rooftop as I entered a conservatory on the palace’s south side. Brenin’s chattering had drawn me. Kenrik replied to his cousin’s questions, but his mind was elsewhere. He was far away, and his eyes stared blankly at the tile floor.

Good, a distraction from my own head.

“There you are. So this is where you and Brenin hide on an icy day,” I said.

Kenrik sat on a stone bench surrounded by a peculiar squatty tree with oval leaves. I didn’t quite know what species the tree was, but it resembled the succulents in the dry regions of Gorlassar.

As Brenin traced patterns in the gravel pathway with a wooden toy horse, he neighed softly. He had a barnyard set out too, with sheep and cow figurines. Someone had carved a barn and a miniature house out of wood for him.

“Niawen.” Kenrik lifted his chin and slid over on the bench. “My apologies. Tiwlip is resting, so I took Brenin off her hands.” He laughed. “Actually, Brenin refused to nap or leave my side.”

I sat next to Kenrik. “He’s not your son, but he acts as though you’re his father.”

“Tiwlip’s husband died when Brenin was a babe. It’s been hard on them. I didn’t mean to step into the role. It just sort of happened.” Kenrik sighed. “Don’t get me wrong. I love Brenin.” Kenrik leaned over his thighs, with his elbows propped on his knees.

I tucked my knees to my chest and rested my feet on the bench, turning to Kenrik to give him my full attention. “It’s Tiwlip, isn’t it?”

Kenrik regarded me. “How’d you know?”

“I see the way she looks at you.”

“Father wants me to marry her. But, Niawen, you must understand; we practically grew up together. She’s four years my